


Gordon Cream Cheese

by genmitsu, thekeyholder



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex, but it might be too cheesy, oswald knows that the gordon cream cheese is the brie-st, we thought this would be a gouda idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 20:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14626610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genmitsu/pseuds/genmitsu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: Oswald wants to show Jim something. It's not what Jim expects - and it's going to bring some changes in their relationship.Yes. It's exactly as cheesy as it sounds.





	Gordon Cream Cheese

**Author's Note:**

> We can't believe we actually wrote this story... it was inspired by a [real product](https://i.imgur.com/PA5eMxa.jpg), though. Hope you enjoy! :)

 

Detective Jim Gordon is reading through a boring file, willing time to pass faster, when his phone pings with a message from Oswald. There’s a funny feeling in his stomach, but he opens it quickly.

_“Hello, Jim. Would you be so kind as to come by my manor today?”_

_“Why?”_

_“I have something I'd like to show you.”_

Jim sighs, looking around the bullpen, but no one is paying him attention. _“This rather be worth it.”_

_“Trust me, it will be. I'll be waiting.”_

_“Okay. I'll drop by after work.”_

Evil never sleeps though, so as much as Jim’s trying to get away, it’s almost seven by the time he’s shown into Oswald’s lounge. “Sorry, got held up.”

Oswald stands up from his chair in front of the fireplace, and walks to greet him, grasping his hand with a smile. “I'm so glad you managed to come, Jim. Please, sit,” he says warmly, gesturing to the chair.

Jim looks around suspiciously, wondering where the files are. Because this has to be about business, their relationship is built on that, and neither would want to disturb that balance. “So, what did you want to show me?”

Oswald smiles and shakes his head in reproach. “Always so straight to the point, Jim. It's okay to relax every once in a while... add some flair to your life,” he eyes Jim sideways and continues, more serious. “I do think you'd prefer to be sitting for this.”

“That bad?” Jim raises his eyebrows, accepting the seat in the end with a weary sigh.

Oswald sits across him, stretching his legs elegantly. “Oh, not exactly. Would you care for some tea? Wine?”

Jim grimaces; he can see through the gangster’s tricks. “No, Oswald, I don't have time. Just show me what you've got.”

He tsks. “Jim, why do you always have to take the fun out of everything? I wanted to show you this.” Oswald takes the thick white object from the plate on the table and shows it to Jim, holding it in both his hands.

Jim furrows his brows, then goes pale when he notices the label. “Gordon? What the-? What's that, Oswald?!”

An impish smile curves Oswald’s lips. “Something I enjoy.” With that, he brings the object to his lips and squeezes something white out right into his mouth, closes his eyes and moans in appreciation, before looking at Jim again. “It's delicious. Would you like some?”

Jim's face goes through a lot of emotions, including confusion, irritation, incredulity, then his expression becomes strained, and he shifts in his seat. “Uhhh, thanks not.” He can feel his cheeks become flushed.

That couldn’t have gone unnoticed by Oswald, who squeezes some more into his mouth, and now his lips are smeared with white. “But it's _criminal_ not to partake in something this good, Jim,” he says slowly, his voice getting silkier. “It's just... oh, my favourite Gordon brand cream cheese, there's no matching it.” And only now he licks the white off his lips, looking Jim straight in the eye.

Jim's mouth opens, his cheeks becoming redder. He stares at Oswald for long seconds before he shakes his head. “Sorry, I just remembered something. Gotta go.” He gets up and storms out of the room in the blink of an eye.

“Jim, wait!” he hears Oswald call after him, but he never stops until he’s out of the door.

 

Jim suddenly realises that the traffic light is green when the cars behind him start honking.

“Learn how to drive, asshat!” an angry driver shouts at Jim and he grumbles to himself. He should really focus on the road and not fantasize about a certain mobster.

This little meeting had nothing to do with business. The message earlier said nothing about it being police business — just Oswald stringing him along for some kind of perverse pleasure. He always goes to lengths to make Jim uncomfortable.

Jim gets home in a kind of daze, the image of Oswald holding that damn thing in his slender hands burned into his mind. Everything about that scene was so suggestive — the shape of the cursed thing, Oswald’s long fingers holding it _just right_ , Oswald's choice of words... Jim goes to bed, but he tosses and turns in his sheets and he's nowhere near close to falling asleep with the obscene picture of Oswald with his lips smeared with white stuck in his head.

Oswald couldn’t have shown him something like that if he didn’t want their relationship to change. He wouldn’t be planting such obviously dirty thoughts in his mind otherwise, and Jim should probably feel disgusted at the idea, but… he’s not. He is so far from being disgusted it should’ve tipped him off a long time ago.

His hand betrays him, sneaking to his boxers, but he stops himself, huffing with annoyance. His bedside watch reads 12:20 and he takes his phone from the nightstand, staring at Oswald's number. This is absolutely insane, but his willpower has completely left him. Finally, he sends a message.

_“Are you awake?”_

The reply comes almost immediately. _“Yes, Jim.”_

_“I can't sleep.”_

_“Something on your mind?”_

_“Yeah kinda... are you alone?”_ Jim panics the moment he sends the text, fearing that his motives are too transparent and Oswald doesn’t want to go there after all.

_“At the moment, yes.”_

_“Why are you still up, Oswald?”_

_“This and that. The important question, Jim, is why are you up?”_

Jim has no idea how it could be discerned from just a text, but the image of Oswald’s eyes glinting mischievously as he deflects the question right back at him pops into his mind. That little--

_“Just thinking about how you don't respect me at all.”_

_“Oh please, when have I ever disrespected you, my old friend?”_

Playing innocent. Jim rolls his eyes.

_“Just a few hours ago. With that stupid cream cheese.”_

_“I did offer to share it, Jim.”_

Jim sighs in frustration. _“That's not what I mean and you know it.”_

_“I think you overestimate my powers of deduction. After all, I am not a detective.”_

_“The way you ate it, Oswald...”_

_“Do tell me, Jim. What did it make you think of?”_

Jim is pretty sure Oswald’s just pulling his leg now. _“What kind of question is that?!”_

_“I am trying to help you work through your trauma of seeing me eat some cream cheese, is all, Jim.”_

Oh, that does it. The little snitch just wants to toy with him, that’s for sure.

_“Trauma... it's not like that. You know what? Maybe I shouldn't have texted. Good night”_

Jim drops his hand with the phone back on the bed and lies there in the darkness, feeling even more frustrated. Oswald is… Oswald is… such a goddamn tease, that’s what he is! Then the phone pings again with a new message, and Jim reads it, squinting.

_“Are you getting cold feet, James?”_

Goading him on, is he? _“Shut up, Oswald. You knew the kind of effect it would have on me”_

_“You say it with such certainty, Jim. And yet I never know what to expect from you :(”_

Jim sighs, staring at the ceiling for a minute. _“You're making me say it, don't you?”_

_“Yes, Jim. I'd love to hear you say it.”_

_“I definitely imagined you licking something else than cream cheese. Satisfied?”_

_“It takes more than that to satisfy me, Jim. I'm sure it's the same for you.”_

This is it. The moment of truth. _“Don't tease. Call me then.”_

His phone rings at once.

“Good evening, Jim,” comes Oswald’s soft voice.

“Hi. I didn't think you'd actually call.”

“I'm always glad for an opportunity to talk to you, I'm sure you know it.”

“Yes, but you also like to do the exact opposite of what I tell you to.”

“Just to keep you on your toes,” Oswald says with a chuckle. “So... what was it about the cream cheese?”

“You must know, Oswald... fuck,” Jim stammers. “That you'd take something else in your mouth.”

“My, Detective. I'm afraid I'm not very sharp at this late hour,” Oswald all but purrs, and then continues lower and silkier. “You're going to have to _tell me_.”

Jim inhales sharply. “Oswald... I want you. So badly.”

Oswald’s breath hitches. “Jim. Jim, you will be the death of me.” He lets out a shaky sigh. “What would you like me to do?”

“Anything. Everything.” Jim can’t resist anymore, and he doesn’t care that Oswald can most probably hear his clothes rustling as his hand slips lower. “Just keep talking.”

“I knew exactly what you would think after seeing me lick that cream,” Oswald speaks softly. “I see the way you look at me, Jim... I know you can't resist thinking about my mouth on your…” and the bastard smiles, Jim can _hear_ it. “...What, Jim?”

“Fuck,” Jim moans. “My cock. I want your dirty mouth around it.”

“Want to feed me _your_ cream, James?” His voice grows husky. “I will take it as far as it can go. After all, nothing but the best for my dearest friend. I will lick along _all of its length_ until you beg for me to take it in once more…”

“I knew that silver tongue of yours would be good at something else besides talking,” Jim whispers. “And those lips... I bet I could stretch them.”

And now Jim definitely hears soft rustling of clothes from the other side of the line. “You do always want to shut me up, Jim. How would you go about it?”

Jim swallows. “Pushing deeper in your warm mouth. You'd take it, wouldn't you, Oswald?”

“Mmhmm... I do like to indulge you.” And now there’s a sound that’s decidedly _wet._ “I'll do my best for you…”

“That's a good boy... are you touching yourself, Oswald?” Lust floods his brain at that thought.

“Do you want me to, Jim? Or would you rather touch me yourself?..”

Jim lets out a strained sound. “I wish I could be there to wrap my fingers around you and kiss you.”

Oswald takes another shaky breath and speaks, his voice urgent and needy. “Jim. Jim. Do you know that it takes only ten minutes to get from my place to yours by car?”

“Yeah, but I need you _now_.” There’s more rustling as Jim takes off his underwear. “Please.”

“Oh Jim.” And Oswald says, his voice growing lower, “I'm here with you. I want you. Please touch me, Jim.”

“Your voice, fuck.” Jim swallows thickly. “I'm touching you, Oswald. You feel so good in my hand, thick and heavy.”

There’s a soft moan right then, sending shivers down his spine. “God, Jim. Please don't stop. I need your hands on me... I need your strong hands touching me…”

“I'm here, babe, touching you everywhere.” Jim doesn’t think he’ll last long with Oswald’s moans in his ear. “God, your skin is so smooth and pale.”

“I take you into my hand, Jim. You're so hot and big and I can't wait to see you come,” his voice sounds strained and he swallows thickly. “Oh, I want to kiss you.”

“I'm pressing my lips to yours, Oswald, and you open them for me, your tongue teasing mine.” Jim’s panting. “I want to get closer to you, to feel you everywhere.”

“I'm... I'm so close, Jim,” Oswald groans. “I'm pressing to you, I need to feel your body against mine…”

“Me too, Oswald. I'm here, holding you with one hand and the other one’s on your cock.” Jim sighs. “Come for me.”

“Jim... Ah, Jim... I-I can't anymore, I'm--”

And then Oswald moans for him out loud, a long, pleased sound that’s pushing him over the edge as well.

“Oswald, I'm c-” Jim moans, heavy breaths filling the line.

The breathing on the other end takes a while to calm down, but then Oswald laughs softly and says in a tender voice, “You just keep surprising me, Jim…”

Jim chuckles. “I have to keep you on your toes as well.” But then his voice becomes unsure. “So, uh, did you get sleepy or want this to continue?”

And Oswald’s smiling, that’s for sure. “I'd love a proper, real goodnight kiss from you, Jim.”

Jim’s breath hitches in surprise. “Me too.” His bed creaks as he gets up. “I'll get dressed and drive to your place.”

“I'll be waiting eagerly, Jim,” Oswald says, but doesn’t end the call. Jim can’t bring himself to hang up either.

“I'll put you on speakerphone,” Jim says as he struggles to find some decent clothes. “Geez, I need to wipe this mess.”

“Do it fast, please, Jim.” Oswald chuckles. “Or I could arrange a cleaning service. The one that doesn't ask questions.”

Jim laughs. “I think I can deal with it myself. But next time, you can clean it with your tongue,” he says impishly.

“My,” Oswald exclaims in delight, “I wouldn't have expected someone as straight-laced as you to be so kinky, my dearest Detective!”

“I have my secrets, my dearest mob king. You'll be waiting for me, right?”

“Can't wait to learn them _all…_ ” he purrs. “I'm waiting for you, Jim. Always,” and adds softly, “Please don't dawdle.”

Jim has already dressed, keys jingling as he picks them up from the table. “I’m about to leave the apartment. I'll be there in record time, but gotta hang up now.”

“Yes, wouldn't want to distract you. There'll be plenty of time for that once you're here.”

“See you soon,” Jim says then hangs up.

 

Eight minutes later Jim is grinning at Oswald as he opens the door. “I broke some laws for you, got here in record time, like I told you.”

“I see I'm rubbing off on you a little,” Oswald chuckles, and then he takes Jim’s hand in his, so warm and slightly trembling. “Come here... I want to do more of it.”

Jim smiles. “I don't mind _that_ kind of rubbing. But first, you promised me a kiss.”

Oswald looks at him, unsure, and smiles shyly. “No second-guessing, Jim?..”

Jim’s thumb brushes Oswald's cheekbone. “I'm done with that. Life is too short,” Jim murmurs as he leans in slowly. Oswald reaches for him with his whole body, it seems, and places his hand on Jim’s nape, guiding him even closer before kissing him softly. Jim closes his eyes and obliges, slotting his lips against Oswald's, who moans into the kiss, opening his mouth for Jim, and pressing closer. Jim slips his tongue between Oswald's lips, touching his tongue, hugging him tighter. The kiss is hot and tender, and it feels like they both are melting. Oswald gives as good as he gets, exploring Jim’s mouth until they both are out of breath and have to part.

“Jim…” he says impishly, “I'll have you know, I'm _very_ partial to that cream cheese.”

Jim smiles against Oswald's cheek, then whispers in his ear, “If you let me, I'll show you something better than that.”

 

 


End file.
